Bullet (23 page)

I tried to think back to exactly what he’d said last night about the songs I’d written.  I couldn’t remember his exact words, but he’d pretty much gushed.  So I just nodded and took a sip of my coffee, hoping it had cooled down enough that I could get lost in it for a bit.

But when I put the stupid cup down, he was still looking at me, intent.  “You ever think about being in a band?”

Yes, I had, but it was something I’d never admitted to anyone else before.  Yeah, there were more women in metal today than ever before, but it still seemed to be a mostly boys’ club.  Add to it that many guys in that culture still loved to objectify women.  They acted like we lived in the middle ages, like women were theirs for the taking.  Would someone like me even be able to hold her own in a business like that?

I knew the answer.  So even though I knew I would love it, I shrugged my shoulders and conjured up the most blasé face I could muster.  “Nah.”  And then I focused on my coffee again.

* * *

Up through finals week, I caught glimpses of Ethan here and there, and he was always with a girl.  A different girl to boot.  But I just put my mind to studying and trying my best to ignore him.

Brad texted me once in a while, usually just to say a quick
hi
.  He’d tried to connect with me on Facebook, but I’d realized it was too big a timewaster, so I’d been avoiding it since the third week of school.  I logged on once in a while but realized it was either Facebook or decent grades.  I chose to focus on school work.  Still, Brad made the effort to keep in touch.  I slipped once and mentioned that Ethan was on his tenth girl of the week, and Brad just texted back that Ethan was like that.  And then I didn’t hear much from Brad for over a week, so I realized I needed to keep Ethan talk out of it.

But then finals week was over.  The last time Ethan
and I had looked each other in the eye and had a conversation was when I’d kicked him out of my dorm room.  And the longer the time passed by, the more I hated him for the way he’d just dropped me…like a piece of meat he was no longer interested in.  I didn’t understand what the problem was, and it made no sense to me, but we didn’t even have a chance to get sick of each other.  He’d just decided he was done with me.

That Thursday night,
Zane stopped by my room to say goodbye for the summer.  He said Brad had managed to get them some tour dates for the summer throughout Colorado.  He wasn’t sure where or when they were yet, but he asked me to keep my eyes open for Fully Automatic in a town near me.  I figured the closest they’d come would be Colorado Springs, if they even made it that far.  But I
would
keep my eyes peeled.  I was happy that they were starting to enjoy playing to real crowds with real people, and I knew that was all thanks to Brad’s efforts.  Secretly, I hoped Ethan would break his hand so he couldn’t play.  Then I felt bad for thinking that…and then I justified it with myself that it was okay for me to feel that way, especially considering Ethan loved his stupid guitar more than anything else in the whole world…so for him not to be able to caress it for a few weeks…well, that thought made me smile more than it should have.

Ethan had once said that he never wanted me to hate him.  Well, if that were really true, he shouldn’t have asked for it.  I was well on my way to fully hating him.  Not only had he finished our short-lived romance, but he’d also terminated our friendship in the process.  Yeah, I did hate him for that.

The first week I was home, I relaxed.  The burden of school was off my shoulders.  It was so weird being there.  I felt like a fish out of water.  Sure, I was welcome there; I was loved there; but it didn’t feel like I belonged there anymore.  Really, it didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere.  But I spent the first week at home kind of settling in and figuring out where I fit now that I was back there.

And then I figured I should start looking for a job.  I’d pretty much been a poor college student when I was attending classes, but school took so much effort that getting a job scared me.  I wasn’t sure that I could handle both.  Now that I understood how school worked, I figured I’d be able to handle it when I returned in the fall.

But that was another problem.  I still didn’t know what I should be going to school for.  My advisor told me I’d be okay for one more year, because I still had core classes I had to focus on.  Until my junior year, I could skate by on general classes.  So I tried not to stress out about it.  Still…I found it worrisome.

And that second week
back at home, as I started putting in applications around town, I realized none of the jobs I applied for sounded interesting at all.  I remembered what Brad had said, that any job outside of music sucked.  I thought he was right about that.  To him, though, music
was
his life.  For me, I loved music, yes, but I hadn’t banked my whole life on it.  Hell, I couldn’t even read music without tracing it like Braille and concentrating.  But I was still writing my poetry…although I found myself crafting my poems to be more like lyrics now.  And then I decided…if I was able to save up enough money by the end of June, maybe I could buy a guitar and lessons to go with it in July.  That would make the summer fun and worthwhile.

Being away from Ethan helped my state of mind.  Right off the bat, I was away from his intoxicating aura.  He wasn’t able to suck me in or hurt me if he wasn’t around.  But there was more to it than that.  I was able to think things through better, and I realized that I didn’t hate Et
han, just his attitude.  And Brad and I continued the occasional text to each other (and he talked me into getting my ass back on Facebook so I could like his page for Fully Automatic).  They had some cool pictures, both color and black and white.  I didn’t know who they’d gotten to take their pictures, but it was pretty clear the guys had been studying band pics for years.  They had the disinterested and badass stares down pat.

And looking at their pictures also made me wonder about Brad.  Being away from him made me aware of the pull he had on me while I was nearby, but it faded when I was away.  I wondered why that was.
  I still considered him a good friend, though, and that didn’t fade with time away.

One day I got a couple of invites from Brad to attend a couple of Fully Automatic shows
the third week I was home, one in my hometown and the other in nearby Colorado Springs.  Tickets were fairly cheap and both shows were the same weekend, so wherever I got a job, I’d have to request those nights off.  And then I wondered—could I bear to see Ethan?  And how exactly did I feel about him being in my hometown?

I wrote some lyrics about how Ethan had pretty much ripped my heart in two, and then I wrote some love poems.  Finally, I wound up writing another one about unrequited love, about wanting what you can’t or shouldn’t have.  The last set of lyrics I loved and hoped the band could use.  But since I still wasn’t on speaking terms with Ethan (and doubted I ever would be again), I sent them to Brad to see what he thought.

He messaged me on Facebook. 
These fucking rock, Val.  Where the hell do you come up with this stuff?

I wanted to tell him I came up with those lyrics because of him, but I didn’t say a word.  As I said, the pull wasn’t there when he was far away, but I remembered the feelings he’d stirred in me.  He asked if he could write music for the lyrics
, and I told him to
Write away!
  A week later, he sent me a file with him playing the song fully acoustic, singing the words.  I couldn’t quite imagine the song plugged in, but he’d done a great job of putting it to music.  I was beginning to believe he was the most talented member of the band, and that was saying something.  I was flattered with what he did with the song, so I listened to it over and over.  His voice had never sounded better.

My mother reminded me that she still wanted to meet
Ethan until I confessed to her that we were no longer friends.  When she asked what had happened, I kept it short and sweet and just told her we didn’t get along anymore.

I wasn’t able to get a job those first few weeks, and I think it was because the tourist places, restaurants and little shops already had hired high school kids as their summer help.  But I did manage to land a babysitting job.  School for the kids in my hometown of Winchester got out the last week in May, and some folks I’d known for years needed someone to watch their children during the summer while they both worked.  They would need me until the first week in August when they’d take their family vacation, and then their two daughters would spend the rest of break with their grandparents.  But it would be two entire months of steady work, almost forty hours a week while both parents worked.  I wouldn’t make as much as I would have working at a fast food restaurant, but I knew with kids, I could vary what we did.  One day we could watch movies and then walk to the park; the next we could write stories and draw pictures.  We could walk to the library and then all read books.  I thought I could handle it.  Plus the best part?  I had nights off after five.

I was pleasantly surprised when my old high school friend Jill called me at my parents’ house.  We caught up a little bit, but there was still that distance I’d felt the last time.  She and her new husband Chad were still living in Winchester, and they were both working.  I wanted to actually hang out a little with Jill, but I wanted it to be comfortable, not awkwardly sitting around a table at Chili’s, trying to come up with things to make conversation about.  So I asked if she and Chad would want to come with me to the Fully Automatic concert that Friday in Colorado Springs.  I wouldn’t get paid for another week, so I asked my mom if she could spot me enough for tickets and a little extra for a drink or something, promising to pay her back when I got my first check.  I’d just have to skip the second concert on Saturday, but it would be worth it to reconnect with my old friend.  They agreed and offered to drive since I was buying the tickets.

When they picked me up, I expected to see Jill looking haggard and tired, but she looked like the same old Jill—happy, smiling, and beautiful—and she and Chad looked great together.  He had short blonde hair to match her light long hair, and both looked fit.  I sat in the back seat
but positioned myself in the middle so I could lean over and engage in conversation.  When I commented how good they both looked, Chad told me they had started running every day—half a mile at first, but now they were running over two miles a day.  They looked fantastic.  So I had to ask.  “How’s it going with your parents, Jill?”

“Not good, but at least we’re on speaking terms again.”  I could tell it was a touchy subject, so I decided not to pursue it.  “How was school?”

“Oh…fine.”  I decided myself not to say a word about Ethan, but, I supposed, I should confess that I actually
knew
one of the bands we were going to see.  “Speaking of, one of the bands—Fully Automatic—has two guys I went to school with, and I wrote the lyrics to some of their songs.”

Jill turned around in her seat.  “Are you kidding?  That’s so cool, Val.  Why didn’t you say that before?”

I shrugged.  “I dunno.  I was planning to go see them no matter what, so I didn’t think much about it until you asked about school.”

The rest of the way, we talked about classes, Jill about her experiences at the community college in town and me about mine away from home.  We’d both done a lot of growing up, just in different ways, and I realized that, while she and I might never have an intense, super-close friendship like we’d had in high school, we could still be good friends now.

We got to the venue, an out-of-the-way place called Sunshine Studios, but when I started to buy the tickets, Chad said, “No, no, Valerie.  I’ve got ours.”

“But you drove.”

“No problem.  I know Jill’s just been wanting to spend time with you.”  He kissed his wife on the cheek.  “Can’t tell my girl no.”

The place was loud, blaring metal to get us revved up for the concert. 
We found a good spot near the front.  There were a couple of tables and sofas, but we wanted to be up close.  The first band was setting up, and I smiled, realizing it was Fully Automatic.  “That’s them,” I said to Jill, raising my voice so she could hear me over the music pumping through the large room.

“So how’d you meet these guys anyway?”

I decided to just tell her the whole story, so I told her how I’d decided to sit behind hot guy Ethan during class.  She said, “What?  Sweet, shy Valerie?”

I nodded and giggled.  I didn’t want to drag out the story, but I wanted her to know a little about how it ended up.  “It was totally weird.  He treated me like shit most of the time.  Doesn’t matter how cute he is.  And
, even weirder, I went out on a date with Zane, the bassist, and Brad—the other guitarist/ vocalist—and I have something strange going on.”

“What’s
that
supposed to mean?”

“I wish I could explain it.”

She spotted Ethan, pointed, and said, “That him?”  It was Ethan, all right.  His hair was just a little longer, and his eyes were lined with black kohl, but there was no mistaking him.

I nodded.  “How’d you know?”

“He’s your type.”

I had a type?  That was news to me.  So then I pointed out the other guys…Brad,
Zane, and Nick.  Then she said, “They’re
all
hot, really.”  I raised my eyebrows and giggled again.  “Hey, I love Chad, but I can look, can’t I?”  I smiled.